When You Don't Hate Mondays
by The What-If Writer
Summary: After a quiet, peaceful weekend, the town of Fort Kerium finds itself disrupted by three unruly newcomers who bring more than just greetings.


_Connected to all the other stories- may be a one-shot experiment, maybe continued- though I can't decide now as I'm very busy ^^; Apologies to anyone who wanted to see more. Please enjoy :) I don't own anything._

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When You Don't Hate Mondays

The high-pitched shriek of metal against sandy-coated rock rang out like a death cry of a sickly bird across Fort Kerium; bouncing off the hard-build walls and echoing through the semi-wooden doors. The towns people stopped in their tracks as the screech hit their ear drums, and waited- sure enough, the expected crash of whatever had skidded across the ground followed.

The calamity of crashes, smashing and scraping came to a shuddering hat and silence as the towns-people exchanged blinks of bemusement.

Though, those where the most normal of reactions. Nearby in broad daylight, a gang of not-so conspicuous ruffians had jumped and ducked for cover- taking the loud noise as some kind of threat; or somehow a reaction to their own threat.

The town's people, thankfully, where too busy staring down the road to notice the outlaws run for cover. A large hover-wagon had malfunctioned on one side- causing it to drag across the floor off-balance, explaining the noise.

The only person who didn't look like their ears had been slaughtered tipped his hat up, chewing idly on a toothpick. The Marshal stepped towards the fallen wagon calmly, though his tall partner behind him looked anything but open-minded,

"How can ye get drunk at this time in the mornin'?" Thirty-Thirty remarked in a snide manner, his tail flicking. His ears where standing up as if opposing the screech that had hurt them. Bravestarr, as usual, allowed only a faint look of amusement,

"C'mon, Big Part, Just looks like an accident." His eyes slid over the wagon, now lying on its side. "Call for the doc, will ya..." He slowly made his way over, hoping Thirty-Thirty would take the hint. If there was injured people inside, seeing an annoyed cyborg horse with a giant gun and a temper to match wouldn't make for very good combination to their ordeal.

"Aw, get Fuzz ta do it!" Thirty-Thirty called after him, deciding to stomp over anyway. The Marshal tried not to sigh.

Then, the front door of the hover-wagon burst open and the two of them halted. A thick, rough hand gripped the side of the door to drag the rest of its body up. The first thing the Marshal noticed was the rough calloused marks on the clawed, paw-like hands, then a mane of thick, healthy, unruly hair as black as his own. The short, stout figure was clearly a prairie person, but the resemblance to any other of his kind halted there like a stubborn horse. (No pun for Thirty intended.)

Barely keeping down the black bush of hair was a pilot hat with the typical Prairie headlamp, only a red antenna poked out from behind it, clearly custom made; a shoulder belt with energy capsules, yellow and circular, was slung over a baggy coat; a sun-bleached pilot scarf wrapped around his neck over the navy-blue tunic-coat. His first thought when he saw it jumped to a certain other Prairie-Person who stood out from the crowd- but clearly it wasn't him, as no whiff of cigar smoke was present.

The face under the hat and hair was young and soft-looking; Prairie People lived long, so he'd probably be around twenty yet still retained a more youthful look. His face was twisted into an irritated scowl as his hair slipped out of his hat even more; he shoved it back into place with a sour expression akin to Thirty-Thirty's.

"Hey, there, Friend." Bravestarr found himself calling. He had keen senses for trouble- though this youth looked abnormal and would stick out in any crowd, he didn't feel he was a threat. "You alright?"

Black, beady eyes focused on him. The youth dusted his arm off almost violently, "Yeah." He called, turning his head to the wagon. He continued scowling, and Bravestarr himself frowned, though not out of annoyance.

"Anyone hurt?"

His question answered itself. Another hand appeared from the window on the side of the wagon facing upwards; pale purple and bony- for a minute the lawman's eyes widened, before a wave of orange hair popped into view underneath a pointed green hat.

"What in the blue blazes...?" His partner grumbled behind him. The next boy that dragged himself from the wreckage was around nineteen perhaps- clearly of human heritage mixed with something else. He was dressed in dusty clothes, most notable a green jacket that almost looked like a cardigan. At first glance, Bravestarr would have thought he was a girl had it not been the pointed chin and cheek-bones that suggested a man.

The tall, thin lad limped a bit, stumbling- Bravestarr offered a hand but he sheepishly shook his head, coming to stand straight. The odd two where receiving wide-eyed stares from the crowd.

The purple-skinned lad swallowed, his leg looking a bit awkward and stained red. "I, uh..." He glanced at his Prairie friend, who sniffed, placing his hands on his hips.

"What're you lot lookin' at?" He called to the crowd. Seconds later he would tape beside him- Bravestarr tried not to laugh as the Funeral Bot measured the small prairie- who offered him a dark look. "I'm not dyin'!"

"Mundy, don't get so worked up..." The other young man muttered, standing awkwardly- Bravestarr saw no immediate threat from him at all, nor serious injury.

"You boys in any kind of trouble? You rode in here fast." He commented, plainly, keeping his tone neutral as he always did- but Thirty-Thirty didn't have a care for keeping suspicions back,

"Just what're you two ruffians up to?" He poked the small black-haired prairie in the stomach with Sarah-Jane. The small of the two sneered up at him,

"We weren't doin' anything, now push off." He shoved the prized gun away. Bravestarr saw Thirty-Thirty's nostrils flare in fury; the spoiled morning, boring weekend and stubborn visitors had been enough for him.

"Now just look here, you little-"

"Thirty!"

The horse-man glared daggers into his friend as he stepped forward, "Look, Big Part, they haven't done anything- not that we know of yet. It's probably nothing." He reminded the Prairie youth, who seemed to be the elder and the one in charge. The young man nodded once, still frowning, but Bravestarr noticed it was less hostile and more serious.

"Well, get talkin'!" Thirty-Thirty turned his attention back to the two, "What was THAT all about? Ya scared the whole town!"

The black-haired prairie was clearly forcing down a grin as the purple boy's eyes widened nervously.

"Um..."

"Sorry..." The faint smirk faded from the prairie, "Kinda ran into some trouble."

Both Bravestarr and Thirty-Thirty's eyes flickered in the sunlight and their heads tipped up by an inch in attention. "Trouble? What kind?" The Marshal asked instantly.

However, the boy who was talking- notably the prairie, frowned- not looking too eager to share, "Some creeps we know who like raidin' kerium. Thought we had some."

"Know what they look like?" Bravestarr asked, pressing on- he could hear Thirty-Thirty loading his gun and getting ready to head out. His own senses had spiked to attention.

The purple boy remained quiet, allowing the Prairie person to continue with a nod, "Yeah." He rubbed his chin, thinking, "Hmm, lemme see- oh yeah, one of them's a coyote, then they're a couple of human guys, look just like any other outlaws you get out here, really...and a guy in a long coat and wide hat, like a fedora...creepy sod."

The emphasis on the last person caught Bravestarr's attention, "This their leader?"

The youth nodded slowly, "Calls himself Slimm. Didn't ever see his face, keeps his hat on, and his coat collar up all the time. Good with knives, though..."

"We'll see." Bravestarr turned to face Thirty-Thirty, "What do you make of it, Part?"

"Sounds like some new big-shot to pound." The horse replied, already tilting his prized gun a little, eager to go and do said pounding after a week of nothing but quiet.

"We don't know if he's too dangerous, but another person for Tex to recruit isn't what we need right now when we're doing so well." The Marshall agreed more plainly, looking down the street. Upon hearing of new danger the town's people had scattered a bit, though quietly. Bravestarr himself didn't think it was anything big, but, new faces where always good to check out.

"W-we lost them around the Empty Mines..." The violet-skinned boy said, his voice half-broken and clearly not used often. He wrung his hands fretfully, "Its kinda far, but..."

"We'll get there quicker than a blink." Thirty-Thirty assured him bluntly, confident.

The prairie-youth that had stood upon the wreckage of their cart finished dusting himself off and hopped down to the ground.

"Doubt we can get this piece of rubbish fixed..." He grunted. Bravestarr offered a humorous half-smile.

"Lucky it wasn't your neck."

_"Mun?"_

The high-pitched, squeaky voice of his Deputy rang out behind him, and Bravestarr's brows rose in surprise. He turned his head to see the red-haired creature staring at the younger prairie in a state of shock- and he noticed that the latter was also staring back in complete alarm.

"Fuzz?" He said, his voice a bark of surprise.

"Mun!"

Suddenly the shock melted into joy and Fuzz sped over to the youth like a race-car, throwing his arms around him in an almost crushing hug. The younger, 'Mun' apparently, still looked completely confused, staring at the Deputy as his body was crushed in a bear-hug.

"Fuzz, what- just what?! How'd you get here?" The youth spluttered, as Fuzz finally pulled away, gripping him by the shoulders, beaming brighter than the sun,

"Aw, yous gotten big!"

Finally a real smile appeared on the youth's face, albeit a sheepish, embarrassed one. He rubbed the back of his head, ruffling his hair unintentionally, "It's great to see you, too, Fuzz..."

"Whose this, Fuzz?" Bravestarr asked with a small smile, feeling happy for his little partner.

Fuzz finally turned to the friendly Marshal and the bewildered Thirty-Thirty, one hand panned out to them, the other on the boy's shoulder still, "Oh, this ma lil' cousin Mundy! Me not seen him in long time!" He sounded so joyful it was contagious, and the Mundy couldn't help but smile in a wobbly manner as well.

"Pleased to meet you, Mundy. Welcome to Fort Kerium." Bravestarr said, with a tip of his hat. Mundy rose a brow a bit, though offered a crooked grin in response,

"Well thank you, Marshal..."

"This here Bravestarr, and Thirty-Thirty!" Fuzz said cheerfully, one hand waving to the former and the latter respectfully. He saw none of the tense air that had been around seconds ago; in fact his happy presence had made it evaporate.

Thirty-Thirty grunted down at his cousin, "Hey." Was all he said. Clearly they weren't going to be on good terms. Mundy shot a sneer his way before looking over his shoulder at his own companion, who was standing nervously like a lone bean-pole.

"This is Kerr Quin, a friend of mine, Fuzz..." Mundy stated, waving a hand back at him. Kerr Quin swallowed and approached, offering a small wave.

"Uh, pleased to meet you, sirs..." He grinned faintly.

Bravestarr returned it with a small nod, remaining friendly, and Thirty-Thirty sniffed. He obviously was thinking the kid needed to man-up, but Bravestarr didn't push it.

"It's good ta see ya, Mundy!" Fuzz said cheerfully, dusting some of the still-remaining sand off his small cousin- effectively embarrassing him.

"Fuzz..." He grumbled, straightened his hat and scarf. Fuzz took no notice.

"What you do here?"

"Travellin'." Mundy said, shrugging absently, though smiled back at his cousin a bit, "Just dropped in for a while, me an' my friends."

"Friends?" Thirty-Thirty remarked gruffly, eyeing Kerr Quin, "I only see one of 'um!"

Mundy blinked, staring ahead as if he'd just remembered something. "...Whoops. Kerr, we forgot Thundah." He stated blank.

The trembling blast that came next made them all start- and the ground shake slightly below them as the engine of the Hover-Wagon gave out and exploded, shattering the end of it and spouting smoke and ash all around. Something soared out of the wreckage, squealing loudly like a firework before tipping in the air and plummeting back down.

_"Yeeeeeehaaaa!"_

The group below watched, staring stiff, as the figure fell in front of them in a heap of metal. Remarkably, Bravestarr saw they were still attached. A robot.

And about the strangest as they came. The bot, around the size of a child, hopped up onto its feet with a clattering sound. His legs had slipped down upon impact with the ground, like they where extendable like slinkies, though looked normal when he stood still. His head was shaped a lot like a less sharp, bulky version of Thunderstick's, and large, blinking eyes peered at him with a brightness of a hyper child.

Bravestarr tipped his hat back as his partners blinked in confusion. The robot wore black pants and a black poncho with a yellow shirt underneath- and even weirder than that attire was the metal 'hair' flopping like a mop of the robot boy's head.

"Hello!" He chimed, beaming somehow with his robotic face. Must be the eyes that made it looks so. The robot turned his head towards his two companions, mad straw-coloured hair bouncing, "Hi guys, what's goin' on?"

"You just exploded the cart." Mundy said bluntly, looking tired all of a sudden. Kerr Quin had a weak smile on his face.

"Thundah, this is Martial Bravestarr and his partners- one of them's Mundy's cousin..."

"Oh hai!" Thundah grabbed Fuzz's hands and shook it wildly, almost shaking the Deputy in the air, "How'd ya do?"

"Me g-ood!" Fuzz said, looking awfully dizzy.

"Where did they get 'um...?" Thirty-Thirty muttered to the Marshal, leaning over in what he thought was inconspicuous, "He looks like somethin' you'd see when you'd been drinkin' too much!"

"New Texus is full of strange people." Bravestarr reminded him, "You and I ain't exactly normal. These boys seem just fine, and Fuzz seems to trust his cousin."

"Hmm. I don't like the look of him. Seems too smart for my liking." Bravetsarr would agree there was something conniving in the youth's eyes- but not hostile. He supposed they were just dealing with a smart-aleck, not..."

"...Cousin. Now that ya mention it, he did remind me of someone for a second, only he's more pleasant." As he rubbed his chin, Thirty went on with another point,

"And that...robot kid. I ain't never seen a robot kid, but he looks a lot like Thunderstick. Somethin' don't smell right."

"Could be a coincidence." The Marshall murmured, chewing on his tooth-pick, "But all right, Big Part. We'll keep an eye on them."

"So we goin' out to catch this Slimm?" The horse-man smirked a bit. Bravestarr replied with his own grin,

"Sure. We'll head out now and get Fuzz and JB to keep an eye out here and let JB get acquainted with the boys...they seem alright, but they do seem to know more about this Slimm." Bravestarr turned, beginning to stride out of town, "We'll deal with that when we get back."

"Finally..." Thirty-Thirty exclaimed, moving after him eagerly. "Sarah Jane needs the practice..."

As Mundy, Thundah and Kerr Quin followed Fuzz to the Marshal's office to see the judge, the outlaws that had hidden promplty before peered out from their hiding place. A small cloud of smoke hovered over a large barrel.

"Sc-cuzz, put that out!" Came a stern, stuttering hiss. A puffing cough followed,

"Like it bothers you, you got no nose!"

Slowly, the two peered out from the barrel they'd hidden in; two hats with two pairs of yellow eyes underneath; one flickering static, the other beady and nicotine-stained. The eyes peered over the top of the barrel at the departing figures of Bravestarr and Thirty-Thirty.

"Slimm? Took down a pretty b-big cart." Thunderstick pointed out eagerly, turning his head a little to Scuzz's, "Tex Hex might b-be interested-ed."

A snort came behind the barrel from underneath a pile of old clothes, "You think he's-" Snort, "Useful?"

"Sandstorm, we're in ch-charge!" Thunderstick retorted as quietly as he could so they wouldn't be caught, "St-stay outa this!"

"Should we go after 'um...?" Scuzz asked, though his eyes where following some other figures. Thunderstick saw his friend's cousin leading the newcomers to the Marshal's office.

""They m-might know somethin', but Tex is gonna want to know pronto!" Thunderstick stated, "Now let's get outa this barrel!"

Both him and Scuzz tried to wiggle out- only to find they were stuck. They squirmed violently, only for it to tip over and roll a bit away.

"Aw, ta h-heck with it..."


End file.
